


Et la mer va embrassé moi

by Alana



Category: Original Work
Genre: Definitely inaccurate depictions of fishing and sailing, Language Barrier, M/M, Sex, Surprise Dick, Surprise Kissing, abandoning one's life as a fisherman to smooch a fish, at least the human is surprised by it, flirting with food, non-fatal ship sinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alana/pseuds/Alana
Summary: "I didn't know they werereal," Thomas says, his young voice hushed and his younger eyes wide, shoulder to shoulder with Joseph as they crouch next to the open hatch. "Do you think it wants to eat us?"Joseph, a matured and weather-beaten eighteen to Thomas' fresh-faced and innocent sixteen, tells him with confidence, "That's stupid, of course it does. Fish eat anything, so it'll definitely eat you if you go down there." He pokes Thomas' side, where he still has the chubbiness of rich and frequent home-cooked meals clinging to his ribs, and gets batted at with an offended noise. "You could probably feed it for three or four weeks! I'm surprised mermaids don't go fishing for humans."
Relationships: Merman/Sailor, Original Male Character(s) & Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41
Collections: Monster Cuties Flash 2020





	1. Et quand le jour arrivé

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roguefaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguefaerie/gifts).



> I don't know anything about fishing, ships, or sailing whoops. Set very vaguely In The Past, because I'm pretty sure modern ships have better solutions for mermaids than "idk throw them where there's some dirty water in the bottom of the ship", and also bilgepumps to keep the dirty water from collecting in the first place?
> 
> Also the merman is called a mermaid for the majority of the fic but that's because Protagonist Man Joseph doesn't realize mers come in not-maid varieties until he sees a fishstick, IYKWIM! It's just not something he'd thought about.

Joseph had grown up by the water, on the water, in the water-- he'd heard stories of mermaids all his life, and how they were tricksy, hungry, yearned for human flesh between their teeth. He'd never believed in them, not since he was young enough to believe anything he was told.

The creature tangled in the nets was very real.

"Oh, shit," the captain had said, going pale when they'd dragged the creature aboard, and stared at their unnatural catch for a long time as his crew had started gutting and packing the rest of the fish. Finally, he ordered, "Throw it in the bilge." The deckhands had obeyed, dragging it down as its struggled against the nets, letting it splash into the shallow water in the dark depths of the boat and leaving it there to be the captain's concern.

Joseph had lingered, watching the mermaid's eyes track them as they left it behind; then he'd been pulled away, letting the hatch swing shut and lock the mermaid away.

He wasn't the only one who kept going to sneak looks.

"I didn't know they were _real_ ," Thomas says, his young voice hushed and his younger eyes wide, shoulder to shoulder with Joseph as they crouch next to the open hatch. "Do you think it wants to eat us?"

Joseph, a matured and weather-beaten eighteen to Thomas' fresh-faced and innocent sixteen, tells him with confidence, "That's stupid, of course it does. Fish eat anything, so it'll definitely eat you if you go down there." He pokes Thomas' side, where he still has the chubbiness of rich and frequent home-cooked meals clinging to his ribs, and gets batted at with an offended noise. It's what the boy gets, for having a family at home waiting to spoil him. "You could probably feed it for three or four weeks! I'm surprised mermaids don't go fishing for humans." 

Thomas giggles, nervously, and leans back from the hatch. "We should leave it alone," he says, and tugs at Joseph's sweater-sleeve; Joseph shrugs him off.

"In a minute," he says, and Thomas shrugs, scampering away and leaving him to watch the mermaid.

It keeps watching back, eyes gleaming in the faint light coming around Joseph. The bilgewater is shallow around it, barely a few fingers deep, but its dark scales and oddly-colored skin make it look more like it's submerged up to its ribs, the pink-cheeked face peeking up out of the abyss of the bilge, watching him back--

Someone should probably feed it, Joseph thinks to himself, and shuts and bars the hatch, cutting himself off from its staring eyes. Maybe if it's fat and happy, it wouldn't eat any foolish fishermen who tripped and fell into the bilge with it.

When he returns, Joseph has a cooked fish in one hand, and a raw one in the other one.

If he'd thought about it, he would have realized that mermaids probably don't cook their fish-- unless there's magical fires in the mermaid kingdom? The tales he'd been told as a child were less false than he'd thought, after all. But either way, his bases are covered: the mermaid will be fed, and not with human flesh, which he is not terribly interested in providing.

When he opens the hatch, his eyes fail to find the mermaid for a few seconds; then he spots it, curled up as far from the light as possible, body still and silent.

"Oh, bugger," he whispers, "it's died," and leaves the fish by the hatch as he jumps down, to see what happened to it. Had it suffocated, the bilgewater too shallow for its body? Or maybe starved-- who knew how often mermaids needed to eat? 

He splashes close, and nudges it with his shoe, to roll it over-- and it jerks, hisses faintly, eyes snapping open and focusing on him in an instant as he yelps and stumbles back. He trips in the water, and falls onto his back, and realizes in the same moment that _maybe mermaids sleep_ and also that _he'll be bones before someone finds him--_

But no man-devouring sea-beast besets him, and Joseph scrambles back to his feet, soggy but unchomped, to find the mermaid staring at him with wide eyes.

"Erm," he says, and then, inanely, "Sorry, though you'd... passed on," and slowly backs away, to the ladder leading back up. The mermaid watches, and huddles closer to the wall, trembling slightly; Joseph is put to mind of a dog expecting to be kicked, and feels unaccountably sorry for scaring it, even though it's probably just waiting for a chance to drag him down and eat his guts. "Brought you lunch, though," he adds, and with a wary glance turns away, to scramble up and out of the hatch-- he doesn't hear any splashing or sloshing louder than the water in the bilge moving with the rocking of the boat, and when he reaches the top and peers back in, he finds that pale face and dark fish body still as far from the hatch as it can get.

It doesn't move when he tosses the raw fish down, or the cooked one, just watches him; he watches it back, bilgewater dripping off him, for a couple minutes, then shakes himself. He should just go-- if it eats or doesn't eat, what does he care? And there's work to be done. There's always work to be done.

He brings it a mackerel the next day, and a lobster the day after that, and then the day after that it's waiting for him at the bottom of the ladder, pale face turned up towards the light, dark hair pushed back from its face and fins twitching in the bilgewater.

"Oh," he says, and glances behind him-- no one nearby, no one who would save him, except--

Cautiously, he leans down, offering the mermaid another fried mackerel; it reaches up to take it, delicately, out of his hands, and leans against the ladder to dine, right under Joseph.

"We'll be heading back to shore soon," he whispers to the mermaid, who peeks up at him, frilly tailfin swishing in the shallow water. "I don't know what the captain means to do with you, once we're there." It takes a delicate bite of fish, and shifts slightly, dark scales catching the light. "I wonder if he thinks he can sell you?"

It doesn't seem unlikely. Joseph settles on the edge of the hatch, lets his legs dangle, rests his elbows on his knees, and imagines it. Imagines the mermaid below him, watching him with huge, bright eyes, sold to sit in a tank like a prized goldfish-- or maybe sliced open and gutted like any other kind of fish, a naturalist excited to study this rare specimen-- or parceled out by a salesman as miracle-cures, an ounce of mermaid scales here for your cancer, a sliver of fin for your clap...

It makes him uneasy, thinking about these things, but he's very old and wise to the world, and he's pretty sure the captain wouldn't keep anything he didn't think he could make a profit off of.

"... You're pretty well buggered, fish," he tells the mermaid, and it makes a soft noise at him, huge eyes blinking, before biting the head off its lunch.

Joseph was right; they turn back for shore the next day, hold heavy with iced-down fish.

He's busy for most of the day, working on the deck with his crewmates, and only after dinner does he find a second to bring the mermaid its meal. Thomas follows him this time, chattering about what Lewis had told him about Charles and Jacob fighting-- Joseph only half-listens to the gossip, picking out a nice fish from the ice and pulling the hold open without much care for the fact Thomas is right behind him.

"-- Joseph, what are you doing?" Thomas asks, surprised, and the mermaid looks up from where it was curled against the hull, the pink fins on the side of its head flicking forward-- like a cat's ears, almost, it's so strange-- and then laying back, trembling, eyes narrowing at the second shadow cast down on it.

Joseph blinks back at Thomas, and says, "Feeding the mermaid--" though, now that he thinks about it, Thomas hasn't been down here with him since that first day. "--ah, well, I didn't want it to die, so I've been giving it fish," he says, slowly. Thomas looks a little like it had never occurred to him that mermaids could be fed things besides humans, and also like Joseph is a wildly impressive risk-taker for this. "It's fine, it's not mean," Joseph adds, a little sheepish about how he'd teased Thomas before about fish eating anything.

The mermaid has dragged itself closer, and makes a little noise, peering up at them. Thomas backs away from the hatch, and says, nervously, "How do you know? Aren't mermaids supposed to be tricky?"

With a roll of his eyes, Joseph leans down, and hands the fish over; the mermaid takes it, and then pushes itself away from the light, to eat without spectators. "What's it tricking me to do? It's scared, anyways."

"You should leave it alone," Thomas declares, with a nervous laugh. "It's probably just pretending to be scared so you won't expect it when it eats you."

Joseph could explain that it had already had a chance, that it clearly was just scared, that he was pretty sure it was only a threat to fish-- but instead he shrugs, and says, "Hasn't et me yet," which Thomas can't really argue with.

The storm hit that night.

It really shouldn't have been so terrible; the waves weren't too high, the winds weren't too strong, no lightning struck the ship-- it was a mild storm, all things considered. But one particularly strong wave drove a spear of floatsam through the hull of the ship, just above the waterline-- and then the next wave had torn it back out again-- and then the wave after that sloshed heavily through the hole left behind, and thudded against the far hull, picking up a heavy cask of rum and smashing it. The impact left another leak on the other side, some unknown weakness in the construction cracking the ship's hull aft to stern-- not wide, but too long to patch and bail at the same time.

There was plenty of time to get everyone into the lifeboat, sodden but safe enough, and Joseph was right at the back, turned to watch everyone's hard work and next paycheck sink into the drink. It sours his stomach, until he remembers that the mermaid will probably be able to get out, now, return to its home safe and sound-- will it tell other mermaids about its harrowing adventure? Will it remember the nice human man who fed it fish?

That thought, now, that thought makes him smile despite himself, and he turns back towards the front, hanging onto the side of the boat as it's rocked by the receding storm's waves, taking his turn with the oars, pushing on towards morning. They're not so far from land; they'll be fine.

He never sees the pale face that peeks over the stern, or the dark-scaled hands that grasp his sweater and pull him overboard.

The water is cold as ice, and Joseph is sinking, dragged down by the hooks in his sweater-- he struggles, flails, limbs sluggish in the water, eyes stinging at the salt. Something presses against his mouth, slips between his lips, invasive and warm; he struggles more, and it presses deeper, until it brushes the back of his throat, makes him gag on saltwater--

And then suddenly he feels a current of warmth slip through his veins, fill his lungs-- his eyes don't sting, and his lungs don't hurt, and though his limbs still move slowly, the water feels _nice_ around him, welcoming, and the mermaid pulls back, tongue slipping out of Joseph's mouth, face ghostly in the submerged darkness around them and hands startlingly warm as they cup his jaw.

Fear runs through him-- had he been wrong? Had the mermaid just been waiting to strike? Had it-- called the storm down on them, to sink the ship, to glut itself on human flesh? But when he tries to twist away, the mermaid lets him go, and he kicks desperately towards the storm-tossed surface of the ocean.

It follows him up, breaking through a wave beside him, and bobs on the surface. Joseph's already lost sight of the lifeboat, and another shiver of fear bites his spine.

"What are you _doing_?" he cries out, over the sound of the waves, and the mermaid reaches out, claws pushing his hair back from where it's fallen in his eyes. It startles Joseph so badly he sinks under the waves again-- but the lungful of ocean water he takes with his failure to float feels like air to his lungs. He pushes back to the surface, breathes out, and feels the saltwater bursting out of his mouth. It's not a good feeling.

The mermaid pushes his hair back again, and flicks its tail, just a little, just enough to push it close enough to Joseph to wind its arms around him. When its lips find his, and its tongue presses against his mouth--

He's dragged easily back under, under the unpleasantly stinging spray, the roiling waves. The passing waves still rock them, but then the mermaid seems unbothered, and Joseph finds it hard to think about that as he's kissed with a tenderness that's knocking his thoughts loose before he can form him. This doesn't seem like eating? This seems very little like a predator and prey? This-- this seems-- _thankful_ , maybe, or even _affectionate_ , or, ah... licentious?

Mermaids are tricky, he tells himself, remembers the stories, what Thomas had told him-- and then the mermaid pulls back, and catches one of his hands in its two, and raises it to its mouth to nuzzle at his fingers, letting that be the only link between them. It's sweet, in a strange way, and Joseph feels a warmth brought on by more than strange mermaid magic curl inside him.

He doesn't think the mermaid means to hurt him. He thinks the mermaid might... like him.

Anyways... with the lifeboat long gone... what choice does he have but to trust the mermaid?

He'd always known the ocean went deep, seen how much chain an anchor needed-- but with the mermaid diving into the dark, pulling him along by their linked hands, it feels endless, and he's more and more grateful for whatever strange magic the mermaid gave that lets him breathe, keeps him warm-- and that the mermaid seems determined to keep him nearby. Even with the magic, he's not sure what he'd do, so deep under the ocean, so far from knowing where shore is.

Eventually, far above them, blue seeps into the blackness of the world, and his mermaid becomes almost-visible, a faintly darker shape against the shadows below them.

The sun must be rising, Joseph thinks, and the mermaid slows, pulling him closer, wrapping an arm around his waist.

They watch, for a while, as the sun's rays slowly angle down into the ocean, lighting it to a faceted sapphire above them, the black shadows of fish cutting across sunbeams. It's beautiful, and Joseph has never seen the like.

After absorbing the sight for a long time-- and the mermaid hasn't seen the sun at all for days, has it?-- they resume their dive.

He's pretty sure the underwater cave he's been left in is not the mermaid's home, rough and shellfish-encrusted, but it does seem safe enough-- and, thankfully, not entirely black. They had eventually met the seabed, or it had risen up to meet them, and by lunch-time they were in the lee of a small island, the ocean around them bright, the surface barely thirty feet above this little cave's open top. Being left in the blackness would have been terrifying, but here, it's merely dream-like, strange, beautiful-- and more than a little flustering, that the mermaid had left him with another kiss, claws stroking through his hair again, pressing its fingers to his shoulders in a stay-here-ish gesture before swimming out into open waters.

Joseph could probably make it to the island before the mermaid came back, but he doesn't... want to leave? He probably should, but-- the mermaid has been _gentle_. And, well, _interested_. And maybe he has a scholarly fascination with what might happen next, or at least has decided to call the fascination scholarly.

So he doesn't leave, instead exploring the shallow cave, then settling on a smooth, flat-faced rock to wait for his mermaid to return, watching the light glimmering through the waves above, the dark darting shadows of fish, the slow movement of star-fish and other strange little creatures along the cave walls...

He drifts, and thinks, and wonders, and lets his eyes close as he weightlessly waits for his mermaid to return.

It doesn't take too long; he's barely dozed, exhaustion (from being roused at midnight by the storm, from scared half to death by his affectionate mermaid) only dropping him halfway to sleep before he's roused again, the mermaid once more catching and nuzzling his hand.

He blinks and pushes himself to sitting on his chosen rock, and the mermaid's face-fins flip forwards, its lips part in a smile, and it offers him what it's holding in its other hand-- a whole fish, species unfamiliar to Joseph. He almost says _Oh, thank you,_ startled into politeness, except talking underwater doesn't quite work-- he burbles incoherently, and watches the mermaid's smile widen, its shoulders shake in an unmistakable giggle.

It's terribly charming.

Joseph grins sheepishly back, and takes the fish before realizing that he doesn't have any way to eat it, and also it's terribly raw-- but the mermaid sees his predicament, and takes it back, slicing it open with its claws as easily as Joseph might have used a gutting knife and extracting a fat chunk of pale flesh. It holds it to his lips, clearly expecting him to eat; despite his trepidation at the prospect of wholly uncooked fish, he lets it pop it into his mouth, and chews, and finds that it tastes really very good.

The next bite offered, he welcomes; the bite after that, the mermaid chases with a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, making Joseph's cheeks heat. The next morsel offered, the mermaid teases him with, pulling it just out of reach of his lips-- he's being flirted with, he realizes, by being fed.

(In a flash of clarity, he wonders if the mermaid had taken being fed as flirting. Had _he_ made the first move? That might explain--)

Shyly bold, he catches the mermaid's wrist in his hand, and eats from its fingertips while it's gently restrained, and gets a brilliant smile and another kiss in return.


	2. Map touné le ciel, et map touné la mer

Living underwater with his mermaid sweetheart isn't exactly something Joseph had expected for his life, but he finds surprisingly little to complain about; he's well- and often-fed, even more often kissed, and the boldness with which the mermaid flirts would make a maiden aunt absolutely combust. Joseph thinks he might be falling a little in love with the smiles and silent giggles and tiny, soft sing-song noises that sometimes slip from the mermaid when his hand or cheek or shoulder is being nuzzled. He still hasn't figured out how to speak underwater, but he's gone back up above it a few times, to sit on beautiful beaches on tiny islands and watch seabirds diving. Chattering to the mermaid as it sits in the surf, watching him with open fondness, is almost as good as when he steps back into the water, and the mermaid drags him close and kisses him deeply, letting him breathe its air again.

They've travelled far in between the islands, further and further from where the mermaid was caught, further and further from the port Jospeh had called home, but there's nothing that calls him back, nothing as nice as being hand-fed and kissed and caressed, as breathing water with ease and looking up to see sights he can't imagine any other man has ever seen. It's only been a week, and he's _happy_.

It's also only been a week, but he thinks the mermaid is... stepping up its flirtations.

Joseph thinks that, but it's also most certainly true, the kisses already passionate but the mermaid's hands more and more wandering, stroking not just his hair and face but his chest, his hips, his bum (and he'd made a truly silly noise the first time the mermaid had given that area of him a curious squeeze, which had only made it giggle and squeeze again as his face flushed pink), pressing closer and nuzzling more intently when it embraces him. He's not complaining, though he's a little shy-- sure, he's full-grown, a mature man old enough to start his own family, but he hadn't had much luck in his few tumbles in the hay, and that was with someone his own species. Who knows what the mermaid expects from him?

He's spent his seventh day of happily-kidnapped life on an island that's further south and warmer and sunnier than any near where he'd lived, the mermaid watching from the surf as he learns how to set a fire with the strange, fern-like leaves of the trees dotting the beach, cooking a few fish it had caught for him over the open flames. Raw fish might be surprisingly pleasant, but a hot meal is a welcome change-- and his mermaid looks interested, too, when he brings the meal over to the edge of the water.

They dine together, the ocean licking at Joseph's bare feet and the mermaid's tail, each of them offering morsels to the other-- the mermaid's teeth are sharp, but they never do more than brush Joseph's fingers. Joseph's teeth are not especially sharp, but he's careful with the mermaid's hands in return.

It's lovely. And, Joseph thinks, looking at his mermaid, the mermaid is lovely, too. Sure, it's half blue-black fish, and its human features aren't exactly ship-launching gorgeous, despite all those tales of mermaids being seducing sirens... but Joseph looks at it, and thinks it might be the loveliest thing he's ever seen.

It looks back at him, and seems to decide that he's lovely, too, even unshaved, in only his undershirt and trousers, damp from the seaspray. After it feeds him the last morsel of its cooked fish it leans in close, and kisses him, its clawed fingers curling in his hair; when he sighs happily through his nose and leans into the kisses, it makes its soft above-water noise, and strokes its other hand down his chest.

Joseph is a little surprised when it pushes him down onto his back, though not unpleasantly, especially as it keeps kissing him on the way down. He's a little more surprised when, after a week of incremental increases in intimacy, it rolls its heavy body atop him, pressing him into the sand and letting its hands roam freely over his body.

This isn't an unpleasant surprise, either, he decides, as it wiggles a little, nestling its long body between his legs, tailfin splashing into the water as it presses against him-- in fact, the more it wiggles, the more pleasant he finds the surprise, and he ends up breaking the kiss to gasp for breath, pressing his head back into the damp sand under them, his shyer hands coming to rest just behind the pink fins on its hips and keep it close. "Ahh, damn," he whispers to himself, and to the mermaid, who giggles silently. "I-- I hope you know what you're doing, because I don't," he confesses to it, confident that it won't understand him any more than he can understand it.

It giggles again anyways, and kisses his cheeks, which he's pretty sure are red. Then it pushes his undershirt up, over his chest, and he's absolutely sure they are, and his heart may also be beating out of his chest. It makes him a lucky man indeed, that his mermaid presses its hand over his heart, to keep it in its place.

Smiling down at him, its other hand finds the waist of his trousers and tugs at his belt. He's not sure how it expects to get the clothes off him, with its tail between his legs, but he has no objections to the idea-- and it certainly seems to have no objections to what it finds when it gets its hand under his clothes, caressing his prick with confident fingers, stirring it up from half-hard to full mast.

His breath leaves him in a gasp, and his hips try to move up against its hand, despite its weight on him; his prick is infinitely less shy than the rest of him, and he's beginning to consider following its shameless lead in pressing against the mermaid when a hand slips behind his back and they're rolled over, until he's straddling the mermaid's tail, its black hair is spilling across the sand as it lies beneath him. Demandingly, it tugs at his trousers-- _take them off,_ its seems to be saying, the pupils of its bright eyes large and mouth grinning.

Joseph swallows thickly, and scrambles to his feet, nearly slipping and falling back into the ocean. It laughs at him, but he can hardly even mind; he wrests his legs free of their sodden prisons, tossing his trousers up towards the trees, and letting his undershirt follow them, after a twinge of embarrassment that they seem to be doing this on an open beach, in the middle of a bright day. Even if the only possible spectators are gulls and crabs, this feels like something they should do in the dark, hiding from the world, only with each other--

Then he looks back at the mermaid, and sees the way its lips are parted as its eyes eagerly roam his body. It wants him, and that makes him warm and eager despite his shyness, looking at the quick rise and fall of its chest, the interested flicking of its fins and the-- the--

It occurs to him once more (and he has had this thought many times since meeting his seabound sweetheart) that he may have been misled about mermaids, for the thing slipping up out of a dainty slit in its tail, situated below its hips, is extremely unmaidenly in design. Joseph might even consider it distinctly masculine, and under his startled gaze, it gives a noble twitch of interest, as pink and soft-skinned as his sweetheart's blushing cheeks.

"Oh," he says, casting his eye up the mer...man's body, perceptions jostled. The round face-- plain for a maiden, but very pretty for a boy's-- the only faint curves of the body-- the hips must flare for the tail, and not some merchild-bearing reason--

His sweetheart is a terribly pretty merfellow. Joseph isn't sure if he's just an idiot, or if any man would have made that mistake-- but regardless, his sweetheart is most certainly no maiden, and equally certainly doesn't mind that he's not one, either.

It tips its head at him, smiling, and stretches deliberately, back arching off the sand, prick bobbing unattended in the air. Joseph swallows his surprise back as desire pulses through him despite his new realization, hot and eager as a fire-- and tells himself it's just that he likes the merman, is charmed by and fond of him, that he finds that he wants to touch the newly-unsheathed appendage.

Heart racing and cheeks burning, Joseph drops down to his knees next to his merman, kisses it softly, and lets his hand wander unrestrained down his beau's chest, to map out this new territory. He gets a gasp against his lips when his fingers brush the head; a long, shivering sigh as he tentatively wraps them around the shaft; the first stroke draws forth the loudest sound the merman had ever made for him, a sweet moan, as it winds its claws into his hair and opens its mouth under his.

The prick is strange under his hand, which has only ever been familiar with his own-- the merman is generously endowed, slick-skinned, the head oddly positioned and the shaft's shape not quite as smooth as a human man's, but not so strange that he doesn't know what to do with it, and the merman sighs and moans as Joseph puts some years of solitary training to use.

He's still somehow caught entirely by surprise as the merman's prick twitches in his grasp, and the merman gasps and arches, and cool release floods down over Joseph's hand after just a few minutes of stroking and squeezing. The claws in his hair prick at his scalp, which is alarmingly enticing, and Joseph straightens up, to try and catch his breath and look at where his hand is clutched around his merman's prick. The slick issue is translucent white, and covering every bit of his hand and well-smeared over his merman's belly in startling quantity, but otherwise not too much different from what Joseph is familiar with. And he's the one who drew it out of his merman, brought it to pleasure so easily... his ears are burning and his own prick is as hard as it's ever been.

After spending a few moments catching its breath, the merman tugs lightly at his hair, drawing his attention up from its cock to its flushed and smiling face. _Amazing,_ its expression tells Joseph, _you're amazing and I loved that_ , and he laughs, sheepishly. "Ah-- I'm lucky that I knew what to do," he tells it, modestly, though modesty clearly has no place on this beach.

It giggles, and lets go of his hair, and gently pushes at his chest again, tipping him easily onto his back so it can once more squirm atop him. His cock is pressed firmly against his own belly by his merman's weight as it wiggles into place between his legs; its prick slides slickly against his skin, and comes to rest side-to-side with his own; the mermaid shifts its body just so, and it rubs next to Joseph's, showing no sign of softening despite its extremely recent release. It also feels _wonderful_ , novel and slick, and only becomes more wonderful when the merman plants one hand in the sand, holding itself up enough to wrap its other hand around their cocks, squeezing them together--

Joseph comes to his climax in an embarrassingly short amount of time, just a little squeezing and a little rubbing and a bit of thrusting, and after splattering them both with his own issue melts bonelessly into the sand. "Wow," he whispers, and the merman makes its soft noise, kissing his chin and stroking his thigh, hard prick still pressed alongside his own. "Wow," he repeats, and gets a silent giggle, before the hand stroking his thigh cups under it, pulling his leg up along its side, his ankle coming to rest against its dark scales-- and then it's moving again, rocking its hips and tail, dragging its prick off his belly and letting the head slip down, bumping his sack before nuzzling in close below it. He has the vague feeling that he should be objecting to this; he does not, because it feels strange and wonderful, and his merman's tongue is exploring his mouth with relentless passion, and all he feels able to do is melt and sigh and drape his arms around his merman's neck, endlessly pliant.

It's lucky that Joseph is so well-relaxed, and the merman's issue so slick and plentiful; when it pushes its hips forward, its prick catches easily on Joseph's hole, and he squirms a little at the unfamiliar pressure but can't bring himself to complain. When it pushes again, its prick starts to spread him open-- and he jolts, breath catching, but the merman kisses him soothingly, and he melts back into the sand, eyelids fluttering closed. And then it pushes in more and more, the tiniest little press after the tiniest little press, moaning softly as his hole spreads for it, hot and tight and clinging to its prick. Joseph moans, too, as the slow, cool, slick press of the merman's manhood eases him open without pain, his hole welcoming the intrusion, sending tremors up his spine and making his toes and fingers curl. It's indescribable; it's nothing like anything Joseph has ever imagined; he's entirely unprepared when, with a little huff of effort, the merman thrusts hard, and buries its prick to the root inside Joseph, making him cry out in surprise and pleasure.

" _Shit_ ," Joseph swears, breathless, heart pounding, as he's filled entirely with merman manhood, feeling full and stretched and pleasure from it in ways he's never felt before; the merman makes a smug little hum, and begins to fuck him in earnest, drawing cries and moans and trembling, overwhelmed breaths out of Joseph with deep, steady strokes and without mercy. A bare fraction of the way through his fucking, he feels a cool, slick flood of release inside him, _feels_ the twitching of his merman's prick, but besides a sharp breath by his ear, the merman doesn't even pause-- if anything, it takes him more roughly, its issue slicking the way for it to fuck Joseph silly without causing him the least bit of harm, mouth pressing over his to drink up his moans.

After its third release, Joseph stops being able to track how very well fucked he's being-- it's all slick and cool and full and friction between his legs and inside his body, for what feels like countless minutes of strange, overwhelming pleasure-- he's stuffed to the brim with its prick, and then stuffed even more with its seed, and more and more, and-- eventually his own prick gives a good effort at returning to full-mast, and is promptly rubbed so well between their bellies that Joseph nearly faints with pleasure-- and it's only when Joseph whines in protest, body too sensitive, hole and prick overwhelmed by the attention, that his merman slows down, hands petting his skin softly and lips kissing his jaw sweetly. It releases inside him one last time, and then pulls away, collapsing to the side and letting Joseph cuddle bonelessly into its arms, eyes squeezed shut and entire body alight with sensation.

Humming softly, the merman strokes his hair, his back, his rump, and basks in their consummated romance. Clearly, it has chosen Joseph as its mate... and Joseph doesn't mind one bit.


End file.
